I know a teacher.
She’s amazing. I plan my schedule around her teaching schedule. I put up with overcrowded classrooms just to learn from her. Imagine wall-to-wall yoga mats that are a scant 8 inches from one another. There’s no room to do a forward fold with your arms spread wide, it’s next to impossible to not touch someone.
When she’s teaching you know just by looking at the parking lot–it’s randomly full during the week, anytime of day.
Regardless of the class I take, I always feel fantastic afterwards. But after this teacher’s classes, I feel like I could walk on water or at the very least execute a side-crow or headstand in the parking lot.
What makes her special?
All my yoga teachers are skilled yogis and teachers, so I asked myself, “What’s the difference?”
All my teachers begin class with the same introduction; almost word-for-word. This teacher makes her speech personal. She infuses her message with a palatable empathy. When she says that yoga is for every body, we believe her. When she thanks the class for our earnest effort, we glow in belief.
When I’m in class, I believe. I believe in myself; I believe when I fall out of a pose I’m learning, I believe when I make a devotion in class, it matters.
Her words are strong and meaningful, but it’s her delivery that impowers them. When she speaks, the background music is soaring and inspirational–not in a Christian choir perspective, but a subtle Sanskrit song in the Chariots of Fire or Rocky vein.
When I’m impassioned, I speak quickly–perhaps the result of growing up in a house full of kids who always had something to say or a bad case of nerves.
My teacher speaks deliberately with care. We listen.
The Marketing Perspective
An authentic message in a powerful format is more believeable.